


1187 was an awkward year

by llamabunnybird



Series: hetalia drabbles [9]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alliances, Historical, Historical References, How Do I Tag, M/M, Political Alliances, Porn With Plot, Written in Class, nations have it rough, sorta hate sex, well that happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 05:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4127071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llamabunnybird/pseuds/llamabunnybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretending that your kings aren't doing....things in the room next door only works for so long. And England and France have a duty. No one is happy about this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1187 was an awkward year

“I hate you" England said flatly I hate your weather I hate your food and most of all I _hate you”_ he sat primly on the edge of the bed "and currently I'm not pleased with Henry either" he added with a huff "because this is all his fault" he shoved the pillows off the bed

"Well at least it doesn't rain all the time in _my_ lands" snapped France as he finished stoking the fire picking up the pillows as he went and throwing them at the sulking nation on the bed. Sitting on the bed he rolled his eyes as the other moved away from him "look chere" he cleared his throat as he flopped back on the bed looking up at the canopy above them "it's not like I actually _want_ you and your filthy inbred..."*whack* a pillow hit him in the face

"Finish that sentence I dare you" hissed England suddenly looming over him

With that France gave up on diplomacy or their version of it and pushed him of the bed hard ignoring the pained huff he looked over the edge nearly getting hit in the face for his interest. Despite missing him England managed to grab his collar and suddenly France was on the floor as well. One tussle later saw height winning out over sheer rage and France pinning England’s hands before he could hit him again. "Non!" He snapped sharply as the other tried to speak blue eyes softening as he looked down at the fuming nation "truly Angleterre I hate this as much as you but short of your darling John taking the throne back we seem stuck"

England tried to twist out of the others grasp eventually giving up as France shifted to pin him firmer "As long as they get it out of their systems maybe we won’t have to do this again” England said resignedly after another staring contest between emerald and sapphire eyes.  

"We can only hope" sighed France finally letting the other go

A mistake as England immediately kneed him in the stomach. Wheezing he glared at England "fuck you"

"Not if you paid me" England sneered as he stood straightening himself out. I suppose if you asked my brother he'd be more than willing “he added as an afterthought face twisting in distaste

France hummed thoughtfully as he watched England poke at the fire" Alistair is sadly not the dominant part of your crummy little island though"

"Of course he isn’t frog" came the smug reply

Getting up France kept a wary eye on the other they might not be allowed to kill each other per their boss’s orders but that didn't mean England wouldn't maim him on principle. "How do you think Phillip and Richard are doing?" He asked idly

"I don't want to think about it" England said flopping back onto the bed. "This is all your fault" he muttered as France sat on the other end.

"If you are going to blame anyone you should blame Eleanor" France said eventually sounding bored as he looked over at the other nation.

 England snorted "Eleanor?! The reason she married _my_ king was because frogs are terrible in bed" he snickered as France turned red

“Louis was more than adequate!!" Snapped France embarrassed

"That’s not what his other wife said” England said smugly

“It was still in horrid taste for her to marry your king so quickly afterwards” France sniffed haughtily,  his cheeks still flushed.

England snorted “And your people influencing her sons to rise up against Henry was of course all her fault”

France opened his mouth. Closed it, and glared. “You Angleterre are stalling”

“Of course I am” said England sitting up awkwardly, the pleats in his tunic slightly askew. He gestured at the room. “It’s not like they were subtle and I am _not_ some pet that performs on command”

France looked at him skeptically “So the crusades were for fun?” he asked sarcastically

“Someone had to do it besides _you_ went too” England sniffed swatting at France’s hands that were slipping towards his thighs. “Hey” he snapped.

France had finally had enough. “Look I don’t know about you chere but I want to sleep at some point and if we don’t they’ll know so suck it up like a grown up nation pour l'amour de christs!!” he pushed the other nation over.

England glared up at him “Fuck you!”

“Fine!” France hissed “If that’s what it takes!”

And with that England rolled them over ignoring the surprised sound that France made as he did. Fingers quickly moving to undo the lacing at the top of the other’s tunic he paused as he worked out a knot.

“Merci” France said quietly as he waited fingers slowly moving to do the same.

“For what” England asked distracted as he swatted the other’s hands away undoing his tunic himself and slipping it over his head. Hair getting ruffled in the process.

“For being careful it’s an expensive tunic” France looked over as he slipped off his own leggings sitting with his legs spread wantonly as he reached under a pillow behind England slipping a small bottle into his hand.

England looked at it “Really?”

“What?” France said trying to look innocent and failing spectacularly.

“Oil of Rose?” England said a smile slipping out before it was quickly smothered

France shrugged smiling despite the other’s scowl “I thought it was fitting”

“You are impossible” England said as he poured a small bit of the oil over his fingers. He wrinkled his nose “And this is going to smell ridiculously of roses”

Frances laughed “And that’s a problem?”

England rolled his eyes as he pushed the others legs apart kneeling over him to slip a finger in “I’d prefer not to walk into the rose garden in Westminster and think of you” he said wrly.

“Oh Angleterre I’m flattered” France said batting his eyes at England who snorted and promptly shoved another finger in ignoring the wince from the other man.

“Don’t be” he muttered avoiding looking at France as he added another finger. Angling them up to try and find the others prostate in a silent apology.

France shifted uncomfortably “Are you going to take all day?” he finally said as England took another few moments to scissor his fingers.

“Not if I can help it!” England snapped as he pressed his fingers up hard sighing in relief when he heard France moan “Ha! Found it!”

“Took you long enough” France muttered. Not so subtly kicking England in the side as he did so.

England grunted pressing hard against it to make France moan again “Don’t complain I can stop” he warned.

France huffed “Like I need you to….ohhhhh”

England rolled his eyes shifting them so he could slip into him pausing as he pressed the tip of his cock against the others ass

“You ready?” he asked rhetorically as France pressed back against him feet hooking around his back to pull England closer. Shaking his head at the others actions England obliged slipping the head in and pausing to give the other nation time to adjust. France was tired of waiting heels digging into the others back as he urged him on letting out a shuddery sigh as he felt him bottom out. Looking down at him in surprise England shifted his hips tentatively eyes sliding shut at the feeling as he bit back a sigh of his own. France, however, was having none of the other’s silent resolution. Tipping his hips up he rolled them so he was on top looking down at the others surprised eyes. Smirking he ran his fingers up England’s sides as he pressed his hips down hard. England moaned. And with that all mutual hate was discarded onto a mental shelf of _‘not important right now’_ fingers pressing into flesh bruising and reddening it. England finally giving in as he watched France pant beneath him nipping at his lips hard before marking his neck.

“Not where they can see” France gasped trying to wiggle away without letting Arthur out of him and failing miserably.

“Too late” said England smugly

And with that he was on the bottom again France biting hard enough to draw blood. “Not fair!” he gasped.

“Who said anything about fair?” was the only response he got.

Afterwards they lay there exhausted England looking up at the beds canopy as he idly counted the church bells tolling the hour. “Is that a peacock or a chicken” he asked casually turning to France.

“hmmm?” France said sleepily head buried under one of the few pillows that hadn’t gotten dirty. Looking up he squinted “I think it’s a peacock”

“It looks like a deceased chicken”Another pillow was thrown at him

“Go to sleep” France sighed burrowing into the covers “We have to go to that whole look your king didn’t kill my king thing in a few hours”

“Fine” England said sulkily. Then “Hey what if my king….”

“Don’t you even _dare_ ” France hissed sitting up. 

England laughed. 

**Author's Note:**

> So Eleanor of Aquitaine married twice. First to King Louis VII of France then to King Henry II of England. She had two girls with her first husband who annulled their marriage due to a lack of a mail heir. She however also moved to annul their marriage citing his alleged inability to....perform in bed (apparently the girls she had had with him didn't count) Eventually they were granted an annulment on the basis of being too closely related. She then turned and married Henry 8 weeks later (who was even more related to her than Louis. ) eventually she had two sons with him. In any case because of her a feud started between the two kings and eventually her sons were influenced by the king of France (supposedly) to take power from their father. Then stuff happened. In the end her son King Richard (known as the lionhearted) became good friends with the the King of France at the time (Phillip) such good friends that in 1187 they spent some time together where "at night the bed did not separate them".


End file.
